


Dirty Little Secrets

by lls_mutant



Category: Glee
Genre: Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-02-02
Updated: 2012-02-02
Packaged: 2017-10-30 12:25:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,414
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/331714
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lls_mutant/pseuds/lls_mutant
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everybody's got secrets they keep- even if they aren't dark and dirty and scandalous.  The kids of New Directions are no different than anyone else.  Fourteen drabbles exposing each one.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dirty Little Secrets

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the glee_gen_fest

**Artie**

 

"What's this?" Puck demanded, snatching he earbuds from Artie's ears. He listened to one, and then made a face. "Classical music?"

"Yes. It's _Peter and the Wolf_." Artie snatched the earbud back.

"Oh yeah. I remember that one from elementary school. Why would you listen to that?"

Artie shrugged, and Puck lost interest. Which was good, because the last thing Artie wanted to say to Noah Puckerman was _it was the first ballet my mom took me to._ Not that Artie had been to a ballet in a long time, but some dreams were just better left in the past. 

 

**Blaine**

The statistics said something like three out of every four people wore them. But in the back of Blaine's mind he could hear the kids teasing him when he'd come into second grade that day, wearing the thick black frames.

But that was then, and now he no longer cared. He wore contacts simply because he liked them better. In high school, people didn't even _notice_ glasses. Or, if they were Kurt, they seized on them as yet another fashion accessory. Kurt would be _delighted_ if he knew. But something still stopped Blaine from telling anyone that he wore contacts.

 

**Brittany**

 

Brittany's favorite pictures were the one of her and her brother and sisters playing in the sprinkler and her parents in their graduation gowns. Those, and the one picture of a baby named Carrie. Brittany had been five when her mom had gone to the hospital pregnant, and then come home three days later crying and empty-handed. There was only the one picture of her hidden in a corner, but Brittany liked it all the same. It was nice to know that the baby was remembered, even if no one would ever talk about her or even say her name.

 

**Finn**

 

"Would you stop looking out the window?" Tom demanded. "No one saw you come here."

"Like they'd even know what we're doing," Sean agreed from his bed. "We're all from different teams."

"Yeah, I know." Finn had been with these guys since football camp three years ago. "It's just… it's not something people do, okay? If Quinn found out-"

"So don't tell her, idiot," Tom said. "You think I go around telling people about my geek side and my Star Wars obsessions? You just don't talk about it, okay? Now sit your paladin ass down and roll a damn D20."

 

**Kurt**

 

"Hey Kurt," Finn burst into Kurt's room. "Do you have a- whoa."

"What?" Kurt asked icily as he huddled on his bed.

"It’s just… I didn't…. You actually own a flannel shirt?"

"So?"

"It's too big." Finn frowned. "Hey, isn’t that one of Burt's?"

"I had a bad day."

Finn's expression softened. "I heard. You wanna talk about it?"

"No. I just want to sit here and wear my shirt. Go away."

"Okay. But if you change your mind…." Finn backed out of the room. Kurt sank deeper into the pillows and pulled the shirt more tightly around his shoulders.

 

**Lauren:**

 

Chips, check. Pajamas, check. Fuzzy slipper socks, check. Internet message board loaded for mocking contestants, check. Lauren was ready. She clicked on the television and settled back. 

"What are you watching?" her mother asked as she wandered into the room. 

Lauren hastily turned the television off. "Nothing."

She hated that look on her mother's face- the one of dawning awareness followed by pity. Lauren glared at her until her mother looked sheepish and backed out of the room. "I'll leave you alone, then."

"Good." Lauren turned back to the show. Only losers watched the Miss America pageant, everyone knew that.

 

**Mercedes**

 

"Why didn't you tell Kurt where you were going to mission work camp?" Mercedes' father asked as she hung up.

Mercedes shrugged. "No reason."

"That's right- he's an atheist, isn't he?" Her father's voice was disapproving.

"Yeah. Something like that." Mercedes picked up a magazine and pretended to be deeply absorbed.

It was true that Kurt was an atheist, but that wasn't why Mercedes didn't tell him. She didn't tell Tina or Quinn, either. It was just that Mercedes didn't do work camp to show off and score points, so there was no reason to be acting like she did. 

 

**Mike**

 

"Do you want to go over to your house this time?" Artie asked. 

"There's steps to the front door," Mike said.

"That's right. We'll play at my house," Artie said, unconcerned. "See you later." He headed off.

The thing was, Artie's house was nice. Small, but nice. Mike had seen Tina's house, too, and Brittany's, but no one had ever been to his. Mike knew it was nothing to be ashamed of, but he really didn't want to see all their expressions when they saw his house. Life wasn't fair, and Mike thought he'd gotten too good of a deal.

 

**Puck**

 

"Right." Puck looked over the top of his sunglasses at the crowd of moviegoers. "If anyone sees us here, what do you say?"

"That you're only here because Mom made you bring me," Sarah said.

"Good. Because if you tell anyone-"

"Oh, lay off, Noah. Do you think I want any of my friends to see you here with me?" Sarah asked. "I mean, you're _totally_ Team Jacob."

"Shut _up_. And besides, I keep telling you, Edward is a stalker and a wuss."

Sarah rolled her eyes. "You are _so_ annoying. I never should have let you borrow the books."

 

**Quinn**

 

Quinn's mother and father always said that she wasn't that kind of girl. Quinn was pretty, feminine, well-dressed, and popular. Girls like her might do well in school, but they didn't _like_ it. And if they did, they liked subjects like English and history. 

It was straight out of a fifties magazine article, but Quinn thought maybe there was some truth to it. People didn't like you because you could _add_. So she sat in math class pretending that what the teacher was saying didn't interest her at all, when in fact it was the best part of her day.

 

**Rachel**

 

"Look, I'm just saying," Finn said, taking a bite out of his sandwich, "Voldemort can _fly_. That makes him a cool villain right there."

"And I maintain that the character of Voldemort lacks imagination, whereas Umbridge probably lurks in every office in corporate America," Kurt said. "Umbridge is the better villain."

"Yeah, but she doesn't kill people."

"Directly." Kurt remembered that Rachel was sitting at the table. "What do you think, Rachel?"

"Oh, um, Voldemort. Definitely," Rachel said, agreeing with Finn only because he was her boyfriend.

The truth was, she'd _hated_ the Harry Potter books and couldn't care less.

 

**Sam**

 

Sam couldn't figure it out. Country was _huge_. Taylor Swift packed people into concerts. Girls thought Keith Urban was hot. Tim McGraw's dad had pitched in the World Series. Carrie Underwood, Miranda Lambert, Jennifer Nettles- they were all hot, too. So why couldn't you listen to country at McKinley and still be cool?

He couldn't make sense of it, but singing country in the halls or the locker room got you a slushie in the face, and Sam had had enough of those. It wasn't like he didn't like other music, anyway. He just kept most of his country hidden.

 

**Santana**

 

"I don't understand why you don't take art," Brittany said, looking at the watercolor on Santana's desk. Santana shooed her away.

"I don't take art because it's for dweebs," she said. "If I take art, everyone's going to think I'm some weird girl that doesn't wash her hair and listens to emo music. Besides, it's not a big deal."

"I think it is," Brittany said, still looking at the picture. "I think it's amazing."

"It's not a good one," Santana said. She'd gotten the paper too wet at the start.

"Can I keep it?"

"Whatever." But secretly, she was pleased.

 

**Tina**

 

"Can we go up to your room?" Mike begged.

"You know my parents won't let us," Tina lied. "We can go down to the basement though."

"Your parents aren't even home," Mike grumbled, heading for the basement door.

"They'll _know_ , though. Trust me. I think they installed one of those secret nannycams or something. Besides, the basement's nice." Nicer than her room, with the deep, plush couches. Much better than her frilly pink four-poster bed, which she'd had since she was four and didn't want to get rid of. If anyone who knew her ever saw that, they'd die laughing.


End file.
